


A Rat's Rat

by MeinongsJungleBook



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, grey morality, of a sort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:53:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28641777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeinongsJungleBook/pseuds/MeinongsJungleBook
Summary: Rattrap gives Starscream a gift.
Relationships: Rattrap & Starscream (Transformers)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	A Rat's Rat

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Proximity Zine](https://twitter.com/proximity_zine).

Starscream stared raptly at the item on the desk in front of him, deep in thought. After a minute of silent contemplation, he spoke, “Lacing it with poison is obviously laughably amateur; so is making it out of something that reacts explosively to Energon. Anything directly fatal is far too conspicuous and sloppy, so this must be a component of a larger scheme. A listening device? Too obvious again. The alt-mode of a tiny spy? Their miserable existence would soon be put to a merciful end, because clearly I’m vaporizing it at the end of this conversation. And you would know that, so whatever it’s meant to do, it can’t be dependent on me keeping it,” Starscream steepled his fingers and leaned closer, his optics sparkling with a peculiar delight. “What _are_ you playing at, Rattrap?”

“Ay, can’t a guy give his boss a token o' appreciation without it bein' an assassination attempt?” Rattrap asked, gesturing at the ‘ _Cybertron’s Best Boss_ ’ mug sitting on the desk between him and Starscream.

The corner of Starscream’s mouth quirked upwards, “Obviously not. But nonetheless, I am _terribly_ interested in hearing you tell me _all_ about how I’m ‘Cybertron’s Best Boss’,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

“Well...ya ain’t no Optimus,” Rattrap began, causing Starscream’s smirk to evaporate as he instead started to look distinctly unamused, “an' after four million years o’ bein’ an Autobot, dat’s a relief,” Rattrap carried on, and Starscream’s expression shifted to that of surprise. “Optimus wuz dis perfect paragon o’ righteousness, bravery and self-sacrifice, representin’ everytin’ the rest o’ us Autobots were meant ta try an’ live up ta, which didn’t work out too great fer a guy like me, even though a lotta da times we won wuz thanks ta guys like me doin’ what had ta be done. Everyone preferred ta ignore dat an’ celebrate when our victories matched up ta what Optimus said we ought ta be, not what we sometimes _needed_ ta be,” Rattrap explained, a note of bitterness entering his voice.

“Not dat I would've switched sides, seein' as Megatron had a hive o' Nucleon-blitzed scraplets where a processor ought ta be,” this comment prompted a look of delighted amusement to return to Starscream’s face, as Rattrap continued. “Even I got _some_ standards, an’ I draw my line at workin' fer slag-seekin’ psychopaths. But even though yer an ex-Con, I _can_ work fer ya, cuz yer nuttin’ like Megatron. Yeah ya hurt people sometimes, but not cuz ya wanna see ‘em suffer; ya do it cuz sometimes dat’s what it takes to hurt less people in the long run; I get it. An’ sure, yer the kinda bot who puts himself first, but ya put Cybertron a close second, an’ I can relate ta dat.

“What I’m sayin’ is, sure yer a lyin’, schemin’, self-servin’ backstabber, but as a fellow lyin’, schemin’, self-servin’ backstabber, I reckon it’s ‘bout time our lot got our turn on top. Guys like us get a scrap wrap cuz we play dirty, but dirty gets the job done, and Cybertron’s better wit us runnin’ things than I ever remember it bein’. A buncha the other Autobots reckon self-interest's some kinda glitch, but the way I see it, the galaxy never stops goin’ ta slag, so if ya heroically chuck yerself into the smelter first chance ya get, dere’s just gonna be another apocalypse tomorrow dat yer too dead ta deal wit. But if ya look out fer number one, yer still alive ta keep lookin’ out fer number two. An’ what’s wrong wit wantin’ things fer yerself anyway? If bein' good’s ‘bout helpin’ people, why can’t dat include helpin’ yerself?” Rattrap asked, taking the opportunity to unload some thoughts he’d had rattling around in his cranial casing for a while. He’d been keeping them to himself up till now, as it had been a long time since he’d had anyone around who might appreciate them.

“I wanted more outta life, and ya helped me get it,” Rattrap said, an uncharacteristic element of genuine gratitude trickling into his tone. “I admit I did wanna scrap yer spark casing at the start, but then ya became way less o’ a gunked-up waste pipe, an’ now dis is a pretty cushy gig fer me. Though I _could_ use a raise ever since Blurr upped the prices at Maccadam’s. What he’s chargin’ is more criminal than anything I ever done. But anyway, what I mean is…y’know…thanks fer scoopin’ me outta the gutter. Yer not such a bad guy.”

Starscream’s expression had shifted to a look Rattrap had only very rarely seen him wear before. There was a slight smile on his lips, and behind the optics he had fixed on Rattrap, there was a softness that could almost be described as warmth. His expression remained unchanged as he leaned forward and softly said, “Cut the scrap Rattrap, why did you _really_ get the mug?”

“I wanted a chance ta tell ya dat I appreciate ya,” Rattrap said with rare sincerity, “...so I could distract ya from Windblade borrowin' Metroplex ta go on dat loony interdimensional rescue mission ya vetoed.”

Starscream whipped around to face the window just in time to see the now-transformed Metroplex launch himself into the sky. With an enraged shriek, he grabbed the mug and hurled it at the window, causing Rattrap’s gift/distraction to shatter. While Starscream was preoccupied, Rattrap took the chance to hurriedly transform and scurry off.

Ratttap hadn’t been lying to Starscream; he’d genuinely come to value him as a leader and a colleague...but Windblade had promised to cover his bar tab for the next two centuries.


End file.
